


Solo Performance

by cat_scratch_club



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Sherlock's Violin, a bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_scratch_club/pseuds/cat_scratch_club
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The power in 221b shuts off on Christmas Eve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solo Performance

The last candle in the house flipped off as John quietly left the flat. Sherlock sat up, rubbing his eyes. He peered out the window at the cab that John was currently waiting for. The forecast had called for a few snow flurries, but the outcome was very different - the streets of London looked as though they had been liberally doused with powdered sugar. Sherlock could hardly stand and admire the view, however. The frosted pane seemed to draw the remaining whispers of warmth from his body. Just a few hours earlier, the power had gone out. Sherlock and John hadn't thought much of it at first, simply lighting candles in order to see, but as the time wore on, the two realized that the heat had been cut as well. They shivered under layers of clothing and drank tea. It was the first Christmas Eve they had spent together; for Sherlock, it was his first Christmas Eve not spent alone. His cheeks flushed with cold but inside he had felt warm.

Sherlock turned away from the window to glance at the fireplace whose once burning embers were reduced to a few feebly flickering coals. He shrugged his coat a little tighter to himself as he pondered John's departure. It made sense, of course, that he would want to visit Mary on Christmas. After all, Sherlock could tell from the bulge in John's pocket alone that he was planning to propose tonight. John had invited Sherlock along, and Sherlock had wanted to accept, but a few words Molly spoke one day in the lab had come to mind. "The day a man proposes to his girlfriend is magical. Or...so I've heard. You know, just last week, that Mike, you know, the one with the funny teeth..." she had kept talking, but Sherlock tuned her out. He had absorbed, however, the fact that a proposal was a special time for two people who were in love.

And as much as Sherlock hated to admit it to himself, he and John were no longer a singular unit. Everything changed after Sherlock came back. Things were different in this parallel universe where right was left and up was down, where no one reminded Sherlock not to keep specimens in the refrigerator. All there was now was John-and-Mary...and Sherlock. He knew he wasn't a part of a whole anymore.

For a while, it was nice. But all good things, of course, come to an end.

Sherlock heaved another nostalgic sigh before shaking himself from his reverie. He picked up his violin and began to play a sonata.

That night, as he watched the snowflakes fall and composed what was perhaps his most beautiful, tragic song to date, he heard nothing but the incongruous sound that was the thump of his own lonely beating heart.


End file.
